“We were, uh, just, uh, teaching, uh, Valentino …”
“To sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ ” Essie rescues the flailing Juanita.
“Hmmm.” Tía Lola thought she heard Valentino barking something about a surprise birthday party. She’d better bone up on her dog language. Lately, she has been feeling like her hearing is off, like she doesn’t quite understand what is going on.
I am getting old, I guess, Tía Lola sighs. She will be turning fifty-six on December 12. A secret no one must know. Of course, Linda will insist on a celebration in December, since Tía Lola won’t say the date. But maybe this year, with so much going on, Linda will forget, and Tía Lola’s birthday can sneak by unremarked.
As October turns into November, and the weeks go by, the excitement grows. Plans are firming up. The party will be held in the colonel’s house in town, also beginning to be known as Tía Lola’s B&B. This time there is no danger of the invitations being altered. Odette and Henny are actually helping fill them out. Included in each invite is a note explaining that half of the party is a big surprise for Tía Lola, who will be turning fifty-six three days after the colonel. The town is bursting at the seams to keep its secret.
Even the colonel is getting into the spirit of the upcoming party, which, of course, he thinks is only for him. Everyone he loves will be gathered together under one roof. “It’ll be like attending my own funeral, and getting to enjoy it.”
“Oh, please don’t say that, Colonel Charlebois,” Victoria pleads with the old man. She hates funerals, especially for those she loves.
Essie is more direct. “You better not die on us, Colonel, or we’ll kill you.”
Meanwhile, Tía Lola is losing steam. Everywhere she goes, conversation stops, then starts again, everyone politely including her. But Tía Lola can tell that they aren’t truly glad to see her.
When she brings up Colonel Charlebois’s party, only weeks away, she can’t help noticing people exchanging glances. Maybe Victoria forgot to invite them?
But Victoria confirms that those people got invitations. “Is something wrong, Tía Lola?” the eldest Sword asks. Her usually happy friend has been looking uncharacteristically sad.
Tía Lola shakes her head. But she doesn’t add her usual perky mantra, “No hay problema.” She wouldn’t want to worry the kind Victoria, but lately she has been wondering if maybe the town is getting tired of her. Maybe her B&B isn’t such a good idea. And now she has gone and ordered a sign! Every time she tries to pay for it, her friend tells her not to worry about it yet. It’s almost as if Stargazer were hoping that Tía Lola would just forget about starting a B&B and go back to being a stay-at-home tía instead.
The final straw comes one Saturday afternoon, a week before the party. Tía Lola is running some errands downtown and decides to drop in on her old friend Rudy. The door to Amigos Café is locked, which is strange, but it is that lull after lunch and before dinner.
Tía Lola goes to knock on the big picture window in case Rudy is out back. And what a surprise: right there in plain sight are all the kids, and Linda and Víctor, sitting around a table with Rudy. On every face is an unmistakable look of Oh no, it’s her! Even the children, who have begged her to stay, now want her to go away.
Rudy comes to the door and doesn’t invite her in. “I’m, uh, really busy, um, with, um, the dinner menu,” he offers as an excuse. He seems to have forgotten that he was just sitting around a table, chatting with a bunch of friends.
“No hay problema,” Tía Lola says quietly, giving everyone a wistful little wave. Then she turns and walks down the block, head down, spirits low.
Ahead looms the colonel’s house with its magnificent maple tree, now looking so bereft and leafless. Its spindly branches seem like fingers pointing at her. Go back to where you came from! Tía Lola can take a hint. When the family heads down for Christmas to visit the relatives, she will announce her decision. “It’s time for me to stay in my own country.” Adiós and goodbye to Tía Lola’s B&B.
“I think we just hurt her feelings big-time.” Victoria looks pained herself. She is ready to run after Tía Lola and fess up, even if Tía Lola ends up hightailing it out of town.
“We’ll tie her down.” Essie is always one to milk any moment for its last drop of drama. “We’ll give her Knock-Me-Out Tea and keep her asleep until Saturday.”
“That’s not funny,” her older sister tells her.
“I haven’t seen Tía Lola look that sad in ages.” Linda is starting to regret the whole idea of a surprise party. “I don’t know. Maybe we should just tell her the truth.”
“But we’re so close—only a week longer,” Rudy points out.
And yet who can bear to have Tía Lola suffering for a whole day, much less a week? Certainly not Cari. “Why don’t we just give her her surprise party now?”
“Now? But how can we?” All of Victoria’s organization will go out the window. “We can’t start calling people. I mean, they have to plan and make their recipes.”
But Víctor has started nodding in Cari’s direction. “You know, Caridad Espada, I think you’ve come up with a great solution. Seriously. I’ll go pick up a cake. Get a few party items at Stargazer’s. We can do the surprise part of Tía Lola’s party now, just us. We’ll ask her to forgive us, and promise never to give her a surprise party again. Which completely absolves us from giving her a birthday party next Saturday, because it won’t technically be a surprise anymore.” A tricky argument. All those years of legal training have not been for nothing.
“ ‘All’s well that ends well,’ we’ll tell her,” Rudy says, laughing. They all know how much Tía Lola loves a good saying.
They go into high gear. Rudy has a cake on hand he can quickly decorate. Linda and Victoria head for the grocery store to pick up some drinks and groceries for rice and beans and chicken, Tía Lola’s favorite meal. Víctor runs down to Stargazer’s with Essie and Juanita and Cari.
Meanwhile, Miguel has been drafted by Valentino’s Distraction Committee to make sure Tía Lola stays at the colonel’s. She might decide to slip away and visit one of her many friends—although as sad as she looked when she turned away from Amigos Café, Miguel doubts it.
They find Tía Lola in the backyard, sitting on the very bench where Henny had her rendezvous with her aunt Margaret. It is a mild, early-winter afternoon, but still chilly enough that Miguel is surprised that his aunt should linger outdoors. She hasn’t even bothered to tie her lucky yellow scarf around her neck. It just hangs over her shoulders like every drop of luck has drained out of it. “Aren’t you cold, Tía Lola?” he asks her.
Tía Lola shakes her head. Not as cold as she felt looking into Amigos Café and seeing the frosty looks her familia gave her. But Tía Lola would never say so. She would not want to hurt her nephew. He is growing up. He doesn’t need his old aunt around anymore. This is the natural course of life. He shouldn’t be made to feel bad about it.
Miguel isn’t used to seeing Tía Lola sad. She’s usually the one lifting his spirits. He tries to recall what she does when he is feeling low. One thing she always tries is some wise saying. “You know, Tía Lola, every cloud has a silver lining.”
Tía Lola scans the overcast sky. “They do?” So Miguel has to explain that clouds don’t really have silver linings. It’s just a way of saying that there’s some good in everything.
“Is that so?” Tía Lola sounds doubtful.
Well, that saying didn’t work. Miguel glances desperately at Valentino: It’s your turn, President of the Distraction Committee. You try to make Tía Lola smile.
But Valentino flashes Miguel a desperate look back. He can’t think of anything either. Miguel gives it another try: “Tía Lola, if you could make a wish right this minute, what would make you happiest of all?”
Tía Lola has been acting very distant, as if her thoughts are far away, maybe in the Dominican Republic. But suddenly she is back, surprised by her nephew’s question. “Why … I suppose I would wish to
be surrounded by the people I love. And to feel,” she adds, sighing, “that they love me and want me there.”
Just then, they hear voices inside the house, calling. Essie’s head pops out the back door. “They’re out here,” she hollers over her shoulder.
Tía Lola stands up, brushing the wrinkles out of her skirt, straightening her yellow scarf. She actually is feeling better. “Thank you for asking, Miguel.”
“No hay problema, Tía Lola. By the way, can I borrow your lucky scarf a moment?”
Tía Lola looks perplexed. “Of course,” she says, slipping it off. A lot of luck it’s brought her in the last few weeks! “But what do you want it for?”
“It’s a surprise. Now, turn around and let me blindfold you.”
It’s as if Miguel just poured water on a wilting plant. Tía Lola perks right up, smiling ear to ear as her nephew blindfolds her. Then, with Valentino on the other side, Miguel leads his aunt into the house, through the kitchen to the dining room, and unties her scarf.
Tía Lola blinks. She can’t believe her eyes. All around her are the people she loves, holding purple balloons and wearing party hats. “Surprise! ¡Sorpresa!” they cry out, and break into the birthday song. On the table sits a white cake with one candle and purple letters spelling out FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS, TÍA LOLA. WE LOVE YOU.
“Make a wish,” they remind her before she blows out the candle.
“I don’t need to,” Tía Lola says, winking at Miguel. “My wish has already come true.”
How Tía Lola Ended Up Starting Over
Do you remember all the way back to the first Tía Lola book, How Tía Lola Came to Visit Stay, where Miguel learned about ñapas? He and his family were flying down to the Dominican Republic for Christmas (just as he and his new familia will be doing in a few weeks). Tía Lola was telling him and Juanita about customs in her native country. “Don’t forget to ask for your ñapa when you go to the market.” A ñapa, she went on to explain, is that little extra that comes at the end.
You buy a dozen mangoes, and then, for your ñapa, you get one more. Or you order a double ice cream cone, and you get a little added scoop as your ñapa. Or it’s time to come in at night. You can ask for your ñapa, just five more minutes to try to tie up the soccer game.
It also works in books. The last chapter of the last book on Tía Lola has come to an end. Here is a ñapa before Tía Lola says adiós to all our friends.
After surprising Tía Lola with her cake, it’s time for her party. Víctor makes a fire; Valentino fetches her slippers; Cari and Juanita each take a foot to massage.
They eat around the fire, saving the cake for last. Of course, they insist on singing another round of “Happy Birthday.”
Tía Lola comes clean. “You know, it’s not really my birthday today.”
“We know, Tía Lola. It’s December twelfth.” Juanita grins like a TV contestant with the right answer. “You’re going to be fifty-six.”
Tía Lola is shocked. How on earth did they find out?
Víctor explains how Tía Lola’s birth date was on her application to stay in the USA. “Carmen looked it up for us.”
“You forgive us, Tía Lola?” Victoria pleads for them all.
“Forgive you for what?”
“That we threw you a surprise birthday party.” Cari wishes Papa would remind everyone that it was her idea.
“How can I be upset when you did something out of love?” Tía Lola shakes her head. “Don’t you know what they say, Buenas razones cautivan los corazones?” Good intentions win hearts. Miguel and Juanita learned that saying in Tía Lola’s second book. She was afraid to come teach Spanish at their school, thinking she wasn’t smart enough. So Miguel and Juanita made up a story about it being Bring a Special Person to School Day. Tía Lola forgave them for tricking her, because they acted out of good intentions. They didn’t want her to feel lonely all by herself at home all day long.
“But I still don’t get why you’d keep your birthday a secret.” Essie would never in a zillion years hide her birthday from anybody.
Tía Lola sighs, glancing over at Linda, who understands. Tía Lola has been hiding her birthday all her life so as not to cause her niece any expense or bother.
“But those hard days are over, Tía Lola,” Linda says in a tender voice. “We’re not rich, Tía Lola, but we have enough now to celebrate the people we love.” And then Mami tells Tía Lola the whole truth: the big party next weekend will also be for her.
“But you can’t run away, Tía Lola!” Essie warns. “Or we’ll kill you.”
Run away? How can she? Tía Lola is still responsible for the colonel’s half of the birthday party next Saturday.
Miguel has been devouring his cake, sharing a dollop of frosting with the president of the Distraction Committee. “How about my ñapa, Tía Lola?” he says, holding up his empty plate. This prompts Cari to ask what a nappy is—she thought it was a diaper. Miguel explains, and soon all the kids are clamoring for their ñapas, until the cake is gone.
Except for one lone candle sitting among crumbs on the platter. No one can be enticed to take it for future use. The whole familia, including Tía Lola, have had their fill of making wishes. Wishes can be risky, they can backfire on you. But ñapas are a sure bet. All you are asking for is a little bit more of what has already proved to be a good thing. Another slice of excellent cake. A few more pages of a story before it finally comes to an end.
Saturday afternoon, a week later. The house is bustling with activity. A crew is rearranging the furniture: pushing the dining-room table to one side and adding several card tables for the buffet to be laid out. A large picnic basket sits at one end holding the utensils: napkins wrapped around gleaming silver forks and knives.
Outside, snow is beginning to fall. Christmas is coming in less than two weeks. All down Main Street, the lampposts are strung with holiday lights, and every shop window has a Santa or a Christmas tree. At the library, with its four columns sporting red bows, the librarian turns the OPEN sign around to CLOSED at the door.
This evening, the shops are all closing early. Everyone is rushing home to change and put the finishing touches on their potluck contributions for the big party at Tía Lola’s B&B. Salads and soups, homemade breads and casseroles galore. The desserts look like beauty contestants, vying to outshine each other, some frothy with icing, others exotically dark and chocolatey, still others studded with bits of candied fruit like jewels. They all deserve crowns.
Out in the snowy driveway in front of Colonel Charlebois’s house, Stargazer and her friends are unloading Tía Lola’s gift from the back of Rudy’s pickup. Earlier, two posts were driven into the ground, each with a slot for holding the sign in place. Tía Lola had looked up from scrubbing a pot in the kitchen. “What is that hammering?” Miguel managed to convince his aunt that the banging was just the sound of furniture being pushed to one side of the parlor to make room for all their guests.
Tía Lola is hurriedly finishing up her cooking to free up the oven for warming the guests’ contributions when they come. But just in case she should decide to wander toward the front of the house, the Distraction Committee has devised an alarm system: Miguel is posted by the door, blocking the way out of the kitchen. Behind him lies Valentino, like a speed bump. If all else fails, Miguel will stall, Valentino will bark, and Essie will open the front parlor window and holler: DUCK!
Out front, the sign is finally in place, a white sheet draped over it. As the snow accumulates on top, the surprise gift starts looking like a body waiting to be buried.
Or so Essie comments to the colonel as they stand guard by the parlor window.
“So, my party will be a funeral after all. Just not my own, thank God.” The colonel chuckles, Essie giggles, and soon they are both laughing hysterically.
Back in the kitchen, Tía Lola is waiting for her pastelón, a tasty chicken casserole, to come out of the oven. She cleans her hands on her apron and heads toward the front of the house.
<
br /> Miguel blocks her passage. “Where are you going, Tía Lola?”
“What do you mean, where am I going? To check on the coronel, of course.”
“The colonel is fine,” Miguel says quickly. “Essie’s with him.”
“That is what I am worried about,” Tía Lola says, stepping over her favorite mascota. Mix Essie with the colonel and you have the ingredients for trouble. But no sooner is Tía Lola halfway down the hall than Valentino has a major barking meltdown. Tía Lola turns her attention to the dog, but just then the phone rings. It’s one of the guests. They might be a little late on account of the snow has really started coming down. By the time Tía Lola hangs up and heads for the parlor, the oven timer is beeping. Her casserole is done.
The snow keeps falling. It’s as if someone has shaken a snow globe, at the center of which sits a small town full of happy people. From the far corners of their little world they are coming together to celebrate two legends: An old colonel who spent his life serving in the army but finally came back to his hometown to serve in whatever way he can. And then, another legendary figure: a remarkable, lively lady from the Dominican Republic who in less than two years has brought this community together.
They drive in from the countryside: the Magoons, all five of them, with a wheelchair covered with a tarp in back; Tom and Becky, the sheep farmers, in fresh coveralls, comb marks still showing in their wet hair; Margaret and Odette and Henny, each bearing a recipe Margaret wanted to try out from a tribe she has studied. “Don’t worry,” she assures the children. “No tarantulas or locusts or human flesh among the ingredients.” She winks at Miguel, who recently asked her if she’d ever eaten a human being. “Not on purpose,” she replied disconcertingly.
Last night, to avoid the predicted snowfall, Papi and Carmen drove up from New York City with Abuelito and Abuelita. Ming was going to come, but her parents were afraid that with the bad weather, they might be stranded in Vermont forever. “Which would make me totally happy,” Ming confessed to Juanita over the phone. She was ready to run away, but Juanita talked her out of it.
How Tia Lola Ended Up Starting Over Page 11
